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There was a chill in the air as Geralt hiked the last few steps up the path before reaching the crumbling keep of Kaer Morhen.
As younger witchers they had always been told that they didn’t feel emotions. Their tutors had drilled that into them and it had been reenforced by humans that they’d met on the path. It was an easy lie to believe because there was some basis in truth. The emotions had been dulled during the trials. A witcher that was afraid was a useless monster hunter but most of the emotional suppression came through rigorous training and practice.
So he’d believed the lie.
It was just easier that way, easier to be alone on the path, easier to take the insults that were hurled at him along with the rocks, and easier to ignore the pain in his chest.
He couldn’t ignore it now, and it was his own fucking fault. Borch’s words had dug into his soul and pull everything he’d been pushing down to the surface. His emotions had erupted like a hurricane inside of him and he’d become overwhelmed, pushing away the two people he cared about most in the world.
Yen walking away had been hard but not unexpected. They often parted ways after scathing words had been exchanged. He couldn’t remember parting any other way. So it had been difficult to watch her walk away, but he was used to that.
That hadn’t stopped him from lashing out at Jaskier.
What he’d really wanted was some peace to try and process the torrent of feelings but Jaskier had spoken and Geralt had attacked without thinking. He so often did but normally it was impossible to shake the bard. He was loyal to a fault and hated leaving Geralt when there was adventure or a tale to be told.
Geralt could still picture the way Jaskier’s face had fallen, the light draining from his eyes.
And he’d walked away.
Jaskier never walked away. He was too damned stubborn for that.
“Fuck.” Geralt grumbled and the ache in his chest pounded so hard that he struggled to breath as he pulled the long rope by the door.
“White Wolf.” Eskel pulled open the door with a grin and wide arms.
Geralt stepped in to hug his brother. He wrapped his arms tight around Eskel’s back and buried his face in his brother’s neck. “It’s good to see you.”
Eskel pulled back and gripped Geralt’s shoulders. “You too, Geralt. No Jaskier this year?”
Geralt heart clenched and he shook his head, hoping his face didn’t betray the pain he felt inside. “No. Not this year. I don’t think he’ll be coming back.”
Eskel raised an eyebrow at him. “A shame. He was fun. Humans are a fickle bunch.”
Geralt scowled. “Not this human. I, I said some things that I shouldn’t have. I hurt him.”
Eskel sighed and patted Geralt on the back. “Was it worth it though, having a friend?”
Geralt smiled sadly as he thought back at his time with Jaskier. He’d laughed more when he was with the bard. He missed the casual touches, the way Jaskier filled the silence when Geralt couldn’t find any words to say. He missed knowing that there was someone in his life beyond the walls of Kaer Morhen that would be there for him, no matter what.
He’d given that up when he’d said those cursed words and let Jaskier walk away from him without a second thought.
He sighed and nodded. “The times we shared are worth keeping.”
“Even if he left?” Eskel frowned.
“Yeah.” Geralt grumbled and patted Eskel on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s get inside.”
He followed Eskel inside the great doors of the keep but he didn’t get the usual feeling of returning home. It felt as empty as his heart without Jaskier by his side. He hummed and closed his eyes. He would have to apologise come spring. The times that they had shared were worth keeping, but they weren’t enough. He wanted more time, before it was too late and his friend was gone for good.